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I gave him a slow nod and followed his instructions.

Though, I wasn’t sure it would make a difference, anyway.

Dane had become unstable. Volatile.

And I still couldn’t understand why he would continue to press this.

He’d gotten a free card.

A pass.

He could go on and live his life the easy way. Without being tied to Evan. Without being tied to me. He seemed almost desperate for me to return, and that same flare of warning that something was off lapped at my spirit.

I edged back into the living room where my son sat on the couch with his arms wrapped around his knees.

Rocking.

My heart tremored in its confines, the loss and grief threatening to take me over. Drown me in despair.

But I had to be strong.

For my son.

He’d always been my reason.

What I’d been fighting for.

“Come here, my sweet boy.”

Gently, I scooped him into my arms, his weight reminding me he wasn’t so little anymore . . . that these were the things he would remember. Horrible things that would be etched and scraped into his consciousness.

I wanted so desperately to protect him from that.

Carrying him to his room, I pulled back his covers and nestled him in his bed.

Getting to my knees, I leaned over him and brushed back his red, red hair.

In silence, he stared up at me.

Turmoil in his eyes. So much fear and so many questions I didn’t know how to answer brimming in their depths.

I could feel pieces inside me dangling free. Coming apart.

I signed.

ARE YOU OKAY?

His face pinched as if he was upset at me for asking it.

ARE YOU OKAY? His movements were a frantic demand. Angry. As if he wanted to get up and defend me all over again.

Pain clutched my heart, my soul. I swallowed hard, my own movements emphatic as I signed, praying their importance would get through.

I AM OKAY. BUT IT MAKES ME SO SAD YOU SAW THAT. THAT YOU EXPERIENCED THAT. IT’S NOT RIGHT FOR THAT TO HAPPEN. NOT EVER.

Tears streaked from the corners of his eyes, and Evan sat up in his bed, facing me.

I HATE HIM, M-A-M-A. HE’S NOT ALLOWED HERE BECAUSE HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND LOVE. YOU CAN ONLY BE HERE IF YOU LOVE. THAT’S THE RULE. REMEMBER WHEN WE CAME HERE? THIS HOUSE IS L-O-V-E.

So upset, his hands flew through the air, his little breaths pants of exertion.

My son.

My beautiful, wonderful, insightful son.

YOU’RE RIGHT. THIS HOUSE IS L-O-V-E. AND I’M DOING MY BEST TO PROTECT THAT. BUT YOU HAVE TO PROMISE ME YOU WON’T EVER STEP IN LIKE THAT AGAIN, EVAN. I KNOW YOU WANT TO HELP, BUT IT’S TOO DANGEROUS. IF SOMETHING IS SCARY OR BAD, I NEED YOU TO GO TO YOUR ROOM. LOCK THE DOOR. CALL THE POLICE.

His head shook frantically. I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU.

NO. NO, EVAN. THAT’S MY JOB. TO TAKE CARE OF YOU.

A fresh round of tears blanketed his face, so much grief in his green, innocent eyes.

BUT IF I DIE, WHO IS GOING TO TAKE CARE OF YOU? KALE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. WHERE WAS HE?

Oh God.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

I could feel everything splintering. Breaking apart. I did everything to hold it together.

YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE, EVAN. DON’T SAY THAT.

Frustration and regret sped his signs.

WHERE DID KALE GO?

HE HAD TO GO HOME.

The lies just kept coming and coming. But my lies had always been forged to protect my son. It didn’t matter how hard it was, how much I hurt, that wouldn’t change.

Evan would always be my first priority.

If it landed me behind bars or put me in the ground, he would always, always hold that spot.

Evan’s face twisted, and a frown pulled at one side of his mouth. As if he were fighting more tears but was trying to remain strong.

HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. HE PROMISED WE WERE GOING TO READ SPIDERMAN. HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN HERE. I WANT HIM TO COME BACK.

He hit his balled fists into his mattress at his sides, so much confusion and sadness in the action tears pricked at my eyes again.

I wondered right then if I’d ever stop crying.

Sorrow shivered through his room.

A new kind of vacancy that had never been there before.

Because Evan could see through it all. My boy always so insightful, clearly knowing Kale hadn’t just left, but had run.

Reaching out, I held him by both sides of his face and met his eye. “I want him, too, Evan, but sometimes people are afraid of what they don’t understand.”

BUT I’M HIS FAVORITE.

His little hands moved like a plea. As if Kale’s rejection of him had been his biggest blow.

And I ached. I ached so badly, and I knew my son did, too.

That was the risk of bringing someone into our lives.

Allowing them to complicate us more. We never knew what kind of mess they’d leave behind. But somewhere, somewhere I knew this was bigger than I understood.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance